Alterran Motor Vehicle Company (Or the Adventures of the Changed)
by Hideout Writer
Summary: When a young, dissatisfied janitor discovers a genie, he sets out to change the world. Profit from righting the wrongs is just icing on the cake.
1. Chapter 1

"Three wishes, Master. After that, I must move on."

That was three months ago. Now, I live in Atlantis, as the King of Atlantis, and the Founder, part owner, and CEO of Alterran Motor Vehicles. You simply _must_ know what happened in the intervening space of time? Very well, hold on to something then, we're going down memory lane.

I work in a warehouse. Granted, people come and buy things from it, but there is no denying what it is. Steel racks painted a grey-and-red hold a variety of things, some of which I'd like to have, but don't have the space (or money) to obtain. The rest holds absolutely no sway over me.

I work as a janitor, pushing a large grey plastic tub on wheels around the place to empty trash cans that are typically full to overflowing while a nearby can sits unused. When I'm not collecting trash for disposal, I sweep trash of the floor, and clean toilets, in addition to whatever the latest 'cleanup in isle 7' happens to be.

Frankly, I find the job to be annoying, but it's a routine, and it pays. I do my best to not tell the moronic patrons what I think of them, mainly because having a job beats not having one. Still, do they _need_ to place their empty soufflé cups from the sample cart in the freezer? Besides the annoyance of serving the self-entitled, I find my coworkers to be nice enough, and I can usually find someone to help out and talk with while I'm in a slow period. Usually we have strange discussions that have nothing to do with work whatsoever. Better to focus on the positives.

But enough about my boring job, what you really want to hear about is the small, bejeweled bottle I discovered while sweeping near the sample carts. While it doesn't happen often, I have found some interesting items from time to time, and saved a few people from a great deal of irritation once or twice. I picked up the bottle, and placed it in my pocket to deal with later. For the rest of the day, the bottle sat in my pocket, waiting, while I worked, and kept an ear out for anyone looking for it.

When I went to take my lunch break, I took my food and the small bottle out to a table hidden around the back, where nobody would bother me with whatever had been screwed up now. Upon completion of my meal, I pulled out the bottle, which I noticed was somewhat dirty, so I took a handful of my shirt, and began vigorously rubbing the bottle. I didn't expect what happened next. My rubbing may have dislodged the cap, or shaken the contents, I don't know. I just know that a cloud of smoke sailed out of the bottle at high speed, and resolved into what looked like a human female.

"Thank you for freeing me from my prison." She stated, dipping in a curtsey.

I stood up, having quickly buttoned my sport coat, and bowed in return. "My pleasure, Madame." I replied. At the moment, I couldn't have told you if I was joking or serious. I had originally dressed in the suit as a joke, but I quickly found myself liking it, and I tended towards formal speech at odd times regardless.

She blushed, then said "Because you have the bottle, you are entitled to three wishes before I move on." She seemed sad about the idea of moving on, which caused me to narrow my eyes slightly.

"What do you mean, 'move on'?" I queried.

"After your wishes are granted, I am compelled to return to my bottle, which then travels for a time before allowing itself to be found." She answered softly.

"You don't like it?" I asked.

"No! I hate it! It's so tight that even my incorporeal form is cramped, and I can't go wherever I please whenever I please." She answered, sobbing.

"So I make two wishes, and you don't have to move on." I replied.

"It doesn't work that way, now that you've seen me, you must make your wishes in a week, or I move on regardless."

"I need time to think. I'll work out the wishes tonight." I said at last. "In the meantime, what are the rules?"

"You can't directly order someone to be killed, you can't wish for more wishes, and you can't wish for currency. Additionally, you can give me orders, as if I were your servant, but you can't ask for anything a normal person couldn't do unless you use a wish. I am also obligated to answer any question truthfully, whether I want to or not, whilst I have a Master or Mistress." She recited.

"Do you have a name?" At her nod, I continued. "What is your name?"

"Valadlre." She answered softly.

"I can't quite wrap my tongue around that." I said, after a few mangled attempts at repeating the sound she had uttered. "May I simply call you Vala?"

"That is acceptable." The genie answered.

Just then, one of my friends from the warehouse café came out. He was the only one in the store that I personally knew was gay, but within fifteen minutes, he had quite easily shattered a number of misconceptions I'd been harboring about people who engaged in the homosexual lifestyle. It seemed like he hadn't even been aware that he'd been doing it, either. Being a straight man who was almost completely disinterested in sex, I had no problems befriending him, though I had warned him that I wasn't interested almost immediately.

"Hello, Alex." He said cheerfully, setting down his drink before lighting up a cigarette. "Who's your friend?"

"Her name is Vala, at least, that's part of her name. I can't pronounce the second half of her name. She's a genie."

"Whoa, really? Like, granting wishes, and all that?" he babbled excitedly. "I wish people wouldn't punish homosexuals for being homosexual."

"Granted." Vala spoke instantly, her voice ringing with power.

A white flash of light enveloped her form for a moment, then pulsed outwards, like a wall of white light.

"What are your limits when granting wishes?" I asked.

"I can grant nearly anything, but I can't make you omnipotent, omnipresent, or omniscient." Vala answered.

"But an ability such as The Archive could be done, right?"

"The Archive doesn't know everything. The Archive only knows everything that humanity has written down, even if it were later erased. Yes, that can be done."

"I wish for the _Enterprise_-D to be hanging in orbit over Earth right now, and I wish I was the captain of that ship."

"Granted, and granted." Vala answered. As I watched my friend beam away, a massive smile on his face, Vala turned back to me. "You still have three wishes to make."

"I know, but I don't want to mess up and regret it." I answered.

"You've heard the stories, then." Vala stated flatly.

"Yes."

"They are true. Many a mortal have been brought to ruin by a hasty wish. Your friend is lucky that he wished now, rather than when I had first started serving my sentence. I'm sure that I could have found a way to twist his wishes, even a little."

"And when does your sentence end? When you have finished 'doing time' so to speak?" I asked, preparing to leave the table.

"When someone with a good heart wishes me free. All three wishes must be used though, or it doesn't work." Vala answered, a hopeful look on her face.

I nodded. "I need to return to work, but when I get home, I will take some time to work out the wishes, and then set you free."

"I really wouldn't do that if I were you," a male voice boomed from behind me.

"Orrain!" Vala cried out in fear.

Orrain ignored her, focusing on me. "She has killed a mortal by granting a wish in an undesirable way. It is for that reason that she was imprisoned to begin with."

"Is it my choice to set her free?" I asked coolly, standing between Orrain and Vala.

"Yes. I am here to change your mind, but I cannot force you to act one way or the other."

"I will consider what you have said, but if you continue to intimidate Vala, especially whilst in my presence, I'll set her free for no other reason than to spite you. I was taught that women should be cherished and protected, not bullied." I said coldly. "Now, _if_ you don't mind, I have to get back to work." With that parting shot, I spun on my heel, and walked away. After a moment, Vala caught up with me.

"What would you have me do, Master?" she asked.

After a moment of fumbling with the carabineer that held my keys, I took off the key to my truck, an ailing Dakota with a tendency to burn oil. "Take this, and let yourself into my truck. I get out in thirty minutes, so just wait in the truck for me. It's a red vehicle, with the plate number ***-****."

"I will do as you have commanded, Master," she said, taking the proffered key.

As she walked away, a form shimmered into existence beside me. "Captain Joseph of the Federation Starship _Enterprise_, I presume?" I asked, smiling.

"That's no fun!" he pouted. "I wanted to introduce myself! So, what did you wish for?"

"Haven't, yet." I answered.

"Afraid of getting it wrong?" Joseph asked quietly.

"A little. That, and I want to maximize the effects. I'm going to write a book."

"You'll shake the world."

"And you haven't?" I retorted mildly. "The _Enterprise_, for pete's sake! After everyone finds out they aren't tripping on something, they'll come a-looking to get in."

"Like you've got room to talk," Joseph answered. "You'll have Atlantis soon, won't you?"

I gave him my best innocent look. "I don't know what you are talking about," I said, nodding my head yes.

"Right. A mission to the middle of the sea is faster than a mission to space. Less risky, too."

"True." I answered. "Still, Atlantis has a shield that withstood nearly ten thousand years of water pressing down from all sides, and fifty years of plasma bolts raining down from orbit before that. I think it will survive whatever the U.S. Navy has to throw at it."

"What about China or Russia?"

I shrugged. "Sod them, too." I answered carelessly. "I'm not going to let anybody into Atlantis without my _expressed_ permission, and anyone who tries will fail."

"What will you do?"

"Eh…hard to say. I'm working on a number of ideas, but all I've got is a massive idea nebula in my mind right now."

"Really? What's it look like?" Joseph asked, excitedly.

"Mostly purple, shot through with transient green lines, and an odd sprinkling of blue-white balls that are kinda darting in and around the nebula. Why do you ask?"

"Because nebulas are pretty."

"Point."

After we went our separate ways, I finished out my shift, and went to the truck.

"I'm driving." I said flatly.

"Very well, master." Vala answered.

"Was Orrain correct? Did you kill a man?" I asked softly, after getting the truck rolling.

"Yes," Vala replied. "More than one. They were base creatures, with base desires that offended me. When they made a wish I could exploit, I twisted their wishes against them, resulting in their deaths."

"What did they want?"

"Does it matter?" Vala asked. "They are long ago dead and gone. They wanted to be able to have all they sex they wanted. I gave it to them, and they killed themselves with it. Having forgotten a few things in their wish, or rather, not being aware, I allowed them to painlessly dehydrate themselves. When their victims, young children or helpless women, wished to see their abuser dead, I was more than happy to help. I killed five people in this fashion before the Council caught me, and imprisoned me. Bitterly resentful of what had befallen me, I twisted the wishes of everyone I came across, but eventually, my anger and hatred cooled. Now, I usually give them what they want."

"…huh." I said at last. "Orrain can shove a stick somewhere the sun doesn't shine, I'm ignoring his advice."

"Do you truly mean that?" Vala asked softly.

"I find no place in this world for such as murderers, rapists and child molesters. Compared to my feelings towards those, I almost condone stealing, under the proper circumstances." I answered heatedly.

"I find your words to be comforting." Vala said at last.

"I am not the judge, nor the jury, so I am unable to pursue that subset that I so despise. I simply prefer to ignore it for the moment."

"I could make you both, and then you would have the power you need to remove that stain upon society." Vala offered.

"No. I would be just as bad as those I would judge if I chose that path." I replied. "Such power is not be wielded lightly, and I'm afraid that I would ruin the balance if I obtained that kind of power."

"Perhaps you would restore the balance?"

"It's not my place, and that's final." I answered, guiding the truck into the driveway. "Besides, I now have a more pressing issue."

"And what is that?"

"Explaining your presence to my parents." I answered. For several seconds, we sat in silence, then Vala wrinkled her nose.

"Master, is that scent normal?" she asked at last.

"No," I replied. "but it is expected. This truck burns oil. One of the valve cover gaskets is no longer operational, and is allowing oil to escape. The heat off the block is literally burning the oil off, and we're spelling it because that smell is drifting through the firewall via the ventilation system. You said you can do anything a normal person can do without me using a wish, right?"

"That is correct, Master. The terms of my sentence were worked that way so that you could wish without distractions." Vala answered.

"Perhaps, if the weather is good, we can deal with the repairs," I said, opening my door.

"I will begin familiarizing myself with the schematics for this vehicle, Master."

After several seconds, we reached the door of the ancient double-wide trailer that I lived in with my parents.

"Hi Mom, hi Dad," I called out. "I'm back! Did you miss me?"

"Didn't have time to," my brother said lightly.

"Right. Well, without further ado, I present: Vala. She's a genie I set loose whilst at Sam's Club."

"Greetings. Until your son makes his third wish, I am to fill the role of a domestic servant. I can perform most tasks that any ordinary human could perform. Is there anything I can do to be of assistance?"

"Are you sure? You don't have to if you don't want to." Mom assured Vala.

"It would be my pleasure." Vala answered, smiling slightly.

"Well, I haven't made dinner yet." Mom said hesitantly. "Do you want to do that?"

"Easily done. Do you have anything in mind, or should I simply prepare something?"

"Whatever you come up with will be fine, I'm sure."

"I dislike cilantro." I spoke up. "If you use it, and can successfully hide or alter its flavor so that I don't notice it, that's fine, otherwise, I'd rather not have it."

Vala smiled. "I'm certain that won't be a problem, Master."

While she was cooking, I went to my room, and opened a blank notebook. After several minutes of writing, I was finished.

I had set up a series of physical enhancements, as well as several mental enhancements. To top it off, I had added a few special abilities.

"Hey Vala. I finished writing the first one." I said, waving the notebook. "Mm, that smells great. What is it?"

"Lasagna with a side of chicken stir-fry." Vala answered. "What is your wish?"

"I wish that 3E was true." I stated calmly. I was unable to suppress the shiver of excitement that ran through my voice.

"As you wish." Vala stated, equally calmly. Her voice was heavy with power, and white light flared around me, pressing against me and reshaping my mind and body.

When at last the light faded, leaving blue-white spots in my field of vision, my perspective had changed. I was six inches taller, and I could see clearly. Moreover, I could clearly see small things that I didn't have the ability to see before, because of the intervening distance. I also felt stronger, much stronger than before. On a whim, I lifted the table, just to see if I could. When I had lifted the entire table off the floor, I eased it back down. "Wow." I muttered. "Numbers are one thing, real life is another."

I turned my attention inwards, and noticed that my thoughts were clear, no longer muddled with a variety of conflicting thoughts. Everything was organized so that everything was separate from each other. Ideas for my second wish were condensing in one stream, while a variety of tests were congealing in another corner of my mind. Yet another stream was dedicated to information on the Dakota, and a subconscious stream was taking reports on everything, and deciding whether or not to send an alert to the conscious side of the brain. A second subconscious stream of thought was focused on a new pair of appendages. Wings. I could feel them, feathers shifting slightly with my movements, and brushing against my back.

"Master, are you well?" Vala asked, concern evident in her voice.

I snapped out of my thoughts, and looked at her. "Fine." I said at last. "I'm fine. I just got lost in my mind a little, that's all."

"What did you request?" Dad asked, looking up from his tablet.

"3E." I replied. "It's a series of enhancements, for the mind, body, and extra things. '3' for body, mind, and supernatural, and 'E' for enhancements."

"That was a great answer that told me nothing." Dad answered.

I handed him the book I'd been writing in. "This." With that, I started to go outside.

"Where are you going?" Dad demanded.

"Outside. I'm going to test a few things. Oh, if tomorrow has good weather, Vala and I are going to fix the Dakota. I've got the knowledge required now, and Vala will be easily able to help. If you could tell me where the replacement parts are, we can get it knocked out in a few hours." With that, I walked out.

I stopped near the wood pile, and selected an overly large piece. Next, I picked up the 'Red Beast of the East', a red wedge of metal on a metal rod. It weighed about forty pounds. I swung, subconsciously calculating a variety of factors that resulted in a perfect strike on the chunk of wood. It broke cleanly in two, as if I had used an ax or a lightweight maul on a straight grained piece. I stood there for several seconds, frozen in shock as I stared at the two halves. I knew the numbers I had used, but had not expected anything like _this_. After a moment, I gently returned the sledgewedge to its place, and turned away. My father stood behind me, gaping.

"Well," Dad stated at last. "I'm intimidated."

"I'm not finished." I answered quietly. I stared at the odd circle on my palm, fifteen different lines all woven together into a strange design. Light flickered in the circle, and I looked up at the sky. "Going up," I quipped. A moment later, the circle, and three others like it flared, tossing me into the air a good fifteen feet. I landed heavily, nearly touching my hands to the gravel as my knees flexed to absorb the landing.

"You can jump. With fire." Dad stated.

"Fly, actually. I just haven't mastered it yet. That is the vectored thrust part of it. I also have wings, which I will need to learn how to use. I'm not particularly relishing the idea of dealing with the pain of that."

"You won't." Dad said, after a few moments. "Unless you crash right away, you'll be fine."

"I'm talking about the sore muscles." I answered. "They won't be used to operating at all."

"Point. How about you come in and eat? The rest can wait a bit, right?"

"Yeah."


	2. Chapter 2

"Someone's up early." Dad quipped as the coffee machine finished with a rather exuberant series of burps.

"Mmph. Couldn't sleep," I answered. "I don't need as much sleep now, or as much food. I can run on an hour a night of sleep, and a hotdog could be enough for a month, if I'm not terribly active."

"Crazy." Dad muttered, shaking his head.

I shrugged. "My choice," I said. "Besides, if you could make yourself powerful, wouldn't you?"

"No. I'm good with who I am," Dad answered.

"Mmph. Well, I cleaned my room, and found a boatload of material. I've been using it for practice."

"Practice? Of what?" Dad asked.

"This," I replied, gesturing towards my old laptop. It warped and twisted, before becoming a small scale model of the _Enterprise_. A variety of lights activated inside of it, and it began to hover between us. "It's fully functional, aside from the weapon systems. A good shaking would be badful. I think the fragile propulsion systems would cause a decent explosion, enough to erase the kitchen, at the least." I gestured again, and the vessel became my old laptop once more. "The exercise is creating different things, and returning them to their original state."

"…right. I'm glad I don't need to play that game," Dad said after a few minutes.

"I think it paid off," I replied. "The ability to do that is simply an extension of basic telekinesis." Two cups of coffee sailed across the room before landing gently on the table. "I doctored the coffee mid-flight."

"How did you doctor it?" Dad asked suspiciously, looking at his cup.

"Changed a small amount of coffee into cream and sugar," I replied. "It's easy enough, and when I started with all this, I _did_ have a small grasp of what I could do."

"Which is…what?"

"Anything, so long as I have the required material. I can build a starship, full size and functioning, starting with a pile of helium. Of course, that would require several million tons of helium, but the point is that I _could_."

Dad shook his head, half closing his eyes. "Better you than me," he said after a moment.

"Well…the upside is that I'll be able to do quite a bit. I could use leaves to create the parts required to fix the Dakota."

"And when your magic fails and the parts revert to original?" Dad asked pointedly.

"That won't happen," I replied confidently. "I permanently alter the atomic structure. It's like turning a page on that paperlight Nook thing. It holds that image indefinitely, without using any power. It only needs power to change the image. Essentially, once I change it, it will stay that way unless I change it back."

"So I won't find leaves in my engine?"

"No, unless I'm being petty," I replied. "Besides, I have no need for pettiness. I feel good about myself, and there's nothing anyone can do about that. If I ever needed to feel good, I could just challenge you to an arm wrestling contest."

"Ha!" Dad barked, laughing. "I'd never take you up on that. Not after what I saw last night."

I shrugged. "My point exactly."

"So what now?"

"I dunno. I could make a killing selling helium on the side, what with the shortage going on. I actually do like working with the people at work, and they haven't kicked me out yet," I said thoughtfully.

"Hey, you could turn your probation into a raise!" Dad said, chortling.

"Yeah…no. My ability works on the tangible, not the intangible. That file can't be touched like that. Granted, I could make the computer solid gold, but I can't get rid of the probation via my new powers," I explained. "It was a nice thought though."

"I have finished with the feeding and watering of the chickens, Master," Vala said, entering the kitchen. Seeing Dad, she added "Good morning, sir."

"Did you move the coops as well?" Dad asked.

"There was no need. They move themselves now," Vala answered.

"Oh they do? When did that happen?" Dad asked.

"Earlier," I replied easily. "I added ½ horsepower caterpillar track to either side of the summer coops. They have a small board to control speed, and the roof has a solar panel to power the arrangement. I also developed a lightweight app for your tablet, so you can program a specific course for the coops to travel along."

"How does it not hurt the chickens?" Dad asked.

"It's slow. It'll move itself two lengths per day cycle. Two people can do in a minute what the treads do in five hours. The treads can be manually overridden, without tearing up the yard, and everything else still needs to be done manually, such as letting them out in the morning, and locking them up at night. All I did was fix the most difficult task."

"It's not that difficult," Dad protested.

"Sure. Can you move it on your own? Can Mom? I didn't think so. This solves the problem," I said. "Anyway, could you flag everything on the property that is junk? I can alter things relatively quickly now."

"Sure. This weekend work for you?"

"I'm in no hurry," I answered.

"So, what are you doing next, Master?" Vala asked.

"Atlantis." I replied, while Dad rolled his eyes.

"I have several items on record under that name." Vala said. "One planet, a number of vessels, and five cities."

"I'm looking for the city. The Alterran one, with the Stargate in it."

"Ah." Vala said. "Only one matches that description."

"Yeah. I'm just not quite ready for it yet."

"Very well, Master. Do you wish to begin repairs to your vehicle?"

"Yeah, might as well. I have three hours before I'm due for work, and I need to get some flight practice in as well." I answered.

"Of course, Master."

After Vala moved the truck, I concentrated on changing a small area of ground into smooth, level, metal. It even had a ramp for the tires, and a depressed section in between to provide extra clearance for the creeper. In no time at all, Vala and I were repairing the various trouble points with the Dakota. For a final touch, I made all the enclosures waterproof. Now, only three things had access to the engine. Fuel, oil, and air. The job done, I steamed the exterior of the engine, to clear off the grime, closed everything up, and called it good. Though a decent mechanic could have done the work my Dad had planned out in four hours, Vala and I finished it in nearly thirty minutes, and added a few extras to boot.

The flight practice was harder, because I didn't simply level my wings and use the vectored thrust. No, I flew like a bird, and regretted it later.

Had anyone cared to look, they would have seen an extremely odd bird at about ten in the morning.

I also took the time to learn about landings. Long landings, short landings, and vertical landings, all of which played differently, and that was without wind adding to the mix. In the end, I carefully pulled my scraped body off of the lawn, and had Vala patch me up.

"This will sting a bit, Master." Vala said, a tone of regret in her voice.

I nodded. "I know. Go for it," I replied. A moment later, I winced as the burn of the alcohol pad made itself known where I'd scraped my cheek.

"I'm sorry." Vala cringed.

"It's fine." I assured her. "Keep going, I've never been very good at fixing myself up."

Vala smiled bravely, then grimaced as she finished cleaning the wound.

"Are you ready for my second and third wishes?" I asked.

"Trying to rid yourself of me, Master?" Vala asked, pausing slightly.

"Don't stop." I ordered. "And no, I just need to focus away from the stinging on my cheek."

"Oh. Well then, what did you have in mind?"

"I want the City of Atlantis, as seen on the five-season show, 'Stargate: Atlantis', located equidistantly between London in the United Kingdom, and Washington D.C., in the United States, but without some of the more dangerous things in it, such as the tumor-bomb lab, or the madness nanite lab. Additionally, I want Atlantis to have three fully charged Zero Point Modules, and ninety-nine additional modules, also fully charged. I also would like for Atlantis to have seven million drones on hand. Lastly, I want there to be a network of Stargates throughout the galaxy, and Atlantis' gate to have its own special address, like a phone number, only it's a Stargate code."

"There was an astonishing amount of detail there." Vala said, applying the bandage. "Done, and granted," she added. A white aura flared briefly around her, before disappearing again. "The address, for simplicity's sake, is the same one Dr. Jackson wrote on the whiteboard during the pilot episode of Stargate: Atlantis."

I nodded, my finger reaching up to touch the bandage briefly before I stopped myself. "Thank you." I said softly. "Thank you for everything."

"It has been a pleasure, Master. If I may ask?" Vala started, then stopped.

"Yes, you may ask." I answered.

"What was your third wish?" Vala asked softly.

"Your eternal freedom, with a closure clause if you ever turned evil, based off of my current moral viewpoint." I replied.

"Ah." Vala moaned. "Granted. I never thought I would taste freedom again."

"May I ask a question?" I asked.

"Sure." Vala chirped, twirling a finger. Her wardrobe shifted to something more modern, sweatpants and a tee.

"How were you able to grant the last two? I never actually prefaced it with 'I wish'."

"Ah, but I knew that they were what you wanted, so I had the choice to grant or not grant them." Vala explained, touching a manicured finger to her bracelets and anklets. They turned to smoke, and dissipated immediately. "Here," she added, tossing a bottle at me "keep this, I don't want it."

I looked, and saw that it was the jeweled bottle I had picked up the day before. A massive crack ran through it, it was clearly ruined, something I wasn't terribly cut up about.

"You released her?" a voice boomed from behind me.

"Orrain." Vala said coolly, standing up with her arms out.

"You don't want to fight me." Orrain said. "I am one of the council of nine. You wouldn't dare attack me."

"My sentence has been served, and my last Master more than kind to me. I will not have you harassing him about the choices he has made." Vala said sternly.

I stood up, fluffing my sore wings in a show of defiance. "You said it yourself, Orrain. It was my choice to make. Besides, she has a rulebook she must play by now, and if she goes counter to the basic tenants of that rulebook, it will once again be possible to imprison her."

Orrain's face contorted into a snarl. "We'll see about that!" he whispered. A snap of his fingers yielded a jeweled bottle, similar to the broken one in my hand. "_Ahrsehd_." He said softly.

Suddenly, Vala's form turned to smoke, and she was sucked into the bottle…which then violently exploded in Orrain's clenched fist, with Vala's incorporeal form slipping through his fingers.

"Thank you again." She said to me, kissing me on the forehead. With that, she vanished, seeming to simply evaporate.

"You do _not_ know what you have done, _boy_!" Orrain snarled, before leaving.

"Oh, I think I do." I said softly. "I did the right thing, _and_ I got a profit out of it."


	3. Chapter 3

After Orrain and Vala had departed, I put myself through a shower, taking care around the bandage, and dressed for work. I had a four hour shift today, which wasn't too bad, though it was a Saturday.

Once I was ready to go, I snatched my keys off the hook, and walked outside. I squinted up at the sky, and grinned. It was time to fly, but this time, I wouldn't be working my already sore muscles.

I breathed deeply, and aimed my palms at the ground. I felt power stirring within me, and suddenly, I was off the ground. After I leveled off, I switched from my hands to my feet, settling in for a short cruise to my workplace.

In retrospect, a radio may have been a good thing to have. I honestly wasn't expecting an escort of F/A-18 Super Hornets to chase me up Wards road. Given my low altitude, they peeled away, climbing away from the buildings of Lynchburg as I sailed across the 29/460 cloverleaf. I breathed a sigh of relief, though I could have reshaped the aircraft, I didn't feel like have a dance with two fighter jets.

As I neared the location, I cut power to twenty five percent, and added my hands into the mix, so that I could turn on a dime…or use reverse thrust to slow down. I was on reverse thrust only when I glided over the truck dock, and on the ground before I cleared the front of the building.

A moment later, I heard sirens, and watched several squad cars pour into the parking lot. One of them pulled right in front of me. I guess they thought I wanted to torch the gas station. I was surrounded within a minute of having stopped.

"**You there, with the wings. Put your hands in the air, and do not move unless otherwise ordered."** a bullhorn-enhance voice ordered. I sighed, irritated, but complied. A moment later, an officer was patting me down, looking for anything suspicious.

"I'm not doing anything wrong." I snapped. "I work here, that's why I landed here."

"Right. Care to explain the fire you were carrying?" the officer asked.

"Vectored thrust. At the time, reverse thrust, to be specific. The aviation equivalent of brakes. I was stopping and needed help because I came in too fast. I'm new to all this stuff." I explained. "Can I go now? I'd like to eat before I start my shift."

"If you can prove your story, then yes." The officer said, finished.

I gestured at my wallet, now sitting on the hood of his cruiser. "You'll find that my name is on the driver's license card. It will match my nametag that's sitting in my locker inside, C16. I can also blind login to prove that I am who I claim to be."

"Well, I don't see anything dangerous, aside from the razor knife." The officer who had frisked me said.

"So hold onto it until you know that I'm me." I said flippantly. "Go inside, find a manager, any manager. They can vouch for me, and most of the floor workers know me by the name on my tag, even when I'm not wearing it. You act like it's difficult."

"I'd be a little more respectful if I were you," an officer warned. "We can make this unpleasant for you if we want."

"I apologize. I'm just a bit stressed out by all this, is all." I said.

Just then, on of the managers came out, with an officer. She had black hair pulled into a loose and wild bun, with a pen halfway through. She was vertically challenged, but pushed through it regardless, simply calling for someone who could reach higher to get things. Additionally, she could always be counted on to have a smile on her face almost all the time. Friendly and outgoing, it was hard to find something to dislike about her. I never bothered to look too hard.

"Alex, what have you gotten yourself into?" the welcome voice of Robyn asked.

"I'm not entirely sure." I answered. "Aside from this unpleasantness, how's it been going today, Robyn?"

"Ugh, busy," she answered. Then she did a double-take. "When did you get wings?"

"Last night, about dinnertime." I responded.

"How?"

"A genie. She had been imprisoned for a very long time, in a very cramped place. I set her free this morning." I answered.

Just then, mist swirled in a column beside me, and coalesced into the familiar form of Vala, who was wearing her traditional genie apparel. "I can testify that he's telling the truth." She said softly, moving her arms in a 'calm down' gesture. The suddenly raised guns were slowly lowered again.

"To prove it, I'll even grant you a few wishes." Vala added.

One of the officers stepped forward. "M-my wife…she's got cancer…stage IV, they say she doesn't have long. I wish she were completely cured of her cancer."

Vala nodded, a pitying look on her face. "Granted." She said softly.

Another officer stepped forward. "I wish our department was fully outfitted with the newest equipment currently available, and all of our buildings remodeled and updated."

"Done!" Vala said, a note of triumph in her voice. One by one, the cruisers vanished, only to reappear again. '04 Chevrolet Impalas were being replaced with the new 2014 Ford Taurus. Pieces of gear that the officers were wearing vanished, also being replaced with new equipment. A police helicopter appeared overhead, circling for several seconds before one of the officers spoke with dispatch, and the helicopter turned its attention elsewhere. "Are you able to accept his story now?" Vala demanded, gesturing towards me.

"Yeah, that will do." The first officer said. "This is going to mean a lot of paperwork though."

"Yeah, and I wish it wouldn't!" another officer added. "err, sorry, sir."

"Granted!" Vala said happily. "There, a nice, happy ending all around, and nobody needs to go completely stark raving nuts next time he flies anywhere." With that, she vanished, in a rather cartoonish puff of smoke.

"So…" I drawled, after several seconds of awkward silence. "Can I go do my job now?"

"Um…yeah. You're good. No hard feelings about this misunderstanding?"

I snorted softly. "Nah. You didn't toss me in a cell, heck, you never got around to cuffing me and stuffing me in the back of a cruiser. I'll just take back my stuff, and we'll call it good."

"Thanks, that saves on the paperwork. The name is Anderson, by the way. Kenneth Anderson," the officer said, holding out a hand.

I grasped his hand in a firm handshake, dipping my head slightly for a moment. "Alex Brooks. You guys have a good day, alright?" With that, I walked away, heading inside as the police vehicles began leaving the lot.

No one was at the café when I got in, so I walked up to the register, and rapped on the counter with my knuckles. "Hello, the café!" I called out.

Joseph came out from the back, and went to the register. "Oh, hey Alex. What can I get for you today?" he asked, smiling.

"Hotdog combo." I answered. "Dog and drink now, I'm starving."

"Aww." Joseph pouted. "That will be one-ninty. I'm sorry you're starving."

"My own damn fault." I answered. "I worked through the morning, stayed pretty active too. I should have eaten something, but it's hard to lower my standards enough to find something when I'm browsing the pantry and pressed for time."

"I know, right?" Joseph asked, rolling the wrapper. "Enjoy."

"Thanks. I will." I answered, taking the food and cup. "So…why aren't you on the _Enterprise_ right now?"

"It would be rude to simply walk away, wouldn't it? Why aren't you on Atlantis?" Joseph shot back.

"Oh, you know. Big plans. Big, big plans." I bantered easily.

"Well, that's nice." Joseph said. "But if it's too big, it's no fun anymore."

"I'm going to start a car company." I answered. "I can see it now…" I spread my arms expansively. "The Alterran Motor Vehicle Company." I put my arms down again, and winked. "It'll be grand. I'll see ya 'round. Closing tonight."

"Have a good day!" Joseph called after me.

Without looking back as I walked to the break room, I waved in response.

I heard the TV as I walked into the break room, someone had it set for the news channel.

"…witnesses aboard the _Azura_, a P&O Cruises vessel, say the city appeared from nowhere, under a glimmering white dome. Comparisons have already been made to the city of _Atlantis_, as seen in the hit science fiction show _Stargate: Atlantis_. The vessel and its passengers have been detained by the U.S. Navy for a debriefing..."

I looked at the screen, and saw the city displayed on the screen, with the news banner underneath. I kept going, headed for my locker, when the anchor changed topic.

"…in other news, a person with wings landed in the Warehouse Club parking lot in Lynchburg, where he met briefly with a strong showing of the Lynchburg police department. More to follow at 11."

"They got it right." I said to everyone in the break room. "If the press assaults you on your way out, ignore 'em. I'm the one they are looking for. I do have wings, compliments of a grateful genie, but it doesn't change anything about who I am, and what I do."

"You actually have wings?" Michelle asked. Michelle was our Asset Protection Manager, and the well-being of the associates in her building were her responsibility, in addition to the stock placed out on the floor. Michelle, like Robyn, was short, and had black hair, but where Robyn's was mildly messy, Michelle's hair was all over the place, arranged in such a manner that sort of reminded me of Deanna Troi from _Star_ _Trek_: _The_ _Next_ _Generation_.

"Yeah." I answered, opening my wings slightly. "Not much room here, but if you're still here after closing, I could open up all the way."

"Is your vest going to get in the way?" Michelle asked, concerned.

"Shouldn't." I answered carelessly, shrugging it on. As expected, the vest felt strange on my wings, but I could work with it. "Yeah, it's no problem at all." With that important detail settled, I inhaled the hot dog, and took a quick sip of my drink before marking it. Being a science fiction fan, largely obsessed with the _Stargate_ franchise, I used the lambda with a ring above it, as a way to mark my cup. With that done, I punched in two minutes early, and made my way to the cash office to pick up the janitorial keys and a radio. I started reviewing the state of the trash cans, so I had an idea of what was going on, and proceeded to have a rather quiet day, for a Saturday. I was nearing the end of my shift when the radio came to life.

"**Two spotters to receiving please, two spotters to receiving."** Ah, what the hey, why not?

"One spotter to receiving, I'm on my way." I said into the radio. "What are we getting?"

"**Thanks for responding so quickly, Alex. We're dropping a Brocklehurst table for a member. Item number 515938."**

"No problem, Stephen." I answered. Within a minute, I was back in receiving, adding a reflective tape-and-neon green visibility vest to my ensemble. Stephen joined me a minute later, and I watched as he drove the forklift to the edge of the sales floor before shutting it down and stepping out to grab his own vest.

"How ya doin'?" I asked conversationally.

"I'm doing alright." Stephen said, nodding. "And you?"

"Life has never looked better." I said, smiling.

"Really? What happened to give you that attitude?" he asked, leaning against the forklift. Lifting the radio, he added, "One spotter to receiving please, for member service."

"I've been changed." I said. "A lot of things, but the high points are that I'm stronger, faster, and have wings. Also, I have Atlantis, and plans to start a car company."

"That's impressive." Stephen said. I couldn't tell if he believing me or not, so I took off the uniform vest, and opened my wings slightly, at which his eyebrows jumped as high as possible, and stayed there.

After a moment, I folded my wings tightly against my back, and put my vest back on. "So, yeah. Do you like it here, or would you be willing to come work for me?"

"Well, that was rather sudden." Stephen said, smiling. "Give me time to think about it, okay?"

"No problem. I've got about a month to burn regardless, while I put things in order." I answered.

Just then, Ethan arrived. "Hey guys. What are we getting?"

"A table." Stephen replied, getting back into the forklift.

"Right." Ethan answered. "Lead the way."

"Aisle five." Stephen told me, as I looked for directions. With a nod, I started off, and Stephen began following in the forklift. When the task was completed, and Stephen stepped out of the forklift, he left, promising to talk later.

"What did he want to talk about?" Ethan asked, placing cardboard into the baler.

"I asked him a question," I answered casually.

"What was it?" Ethan asked. "Or should I not ask?"

"Wanna live on Atlantis?" I asked. "That was the question. Seriously, I could use a pilot if you're interested."

Ethan tilted his head slightly. "Alright, let's say you're legit with this, and not playing around. What are we talking here?"

I shrugged. "A steady job as a pilot, five eight hour shifts per week, with Sundays always off. An apartment on Atlantis, and the opportunity to fly aircraft that the USAF hasn't seen yet, unless they watched sci-fi shows and movies,"

"Such as what?" Ethan asked.

"Legacy Jumpers, which could fly in space, had a cloak, and mentally controlled missiles. Also, the F-302, and anything else I decide to come up with. I'm going to have space-based operations within five years, and you could be on the leading edge of it all, sitting in the pilot's seat," I said. "Would any of that interest you?"

"What kind of missions am I running?" Ethan asked. I could feel the caution in his voice, and I smiled slightly.

"Cargo transport, mostly. Though you might get into sorties with fighters of various nationalities now and again, if they get uppity. The most sensitive parts are to be manufactured on Atlantis, while other parts will be manufactured in the nations I will have operations in," I explained.

"I'm going to have to talk to Mary-Jane about this," Ethan said. "She'll also need a position somewhere."

"Not a problem. If she accepts, she can tell me what she'd like to do, and I'll find a position for her," I answered.

"**Alex in Maintenance?"** the radio squawked.

"Go ahead for Alex," I answered.

"**Could you come to the back of the meat department? We've got a bit of a spill here."**

"No problem," I said grandly. "I'll be there in a moment." With that, I put the radio back on my belt, waved to Ethan, who had been walking away while I was on the radio, and walked through a tight section we referred to as 'the tunnel'.

Theoretically, it was to be wide enough for a forklift, but with our claims associate having been fired, the caseload was building up, and restricting what should have been a major artery. The tunnel wasn't just claims though, isle 99 also sat in the tunnel, along with about three quarters of all the room temperature produce stock. As I came out of the tunnel, on the produce side, I saw the spill. It looked like someone had fumbled a large container of chicken juice.

"Hey Mike!" I hollered cheerfully, over the sounds of the forklift in the cooler.

Mike, who was driving the forklift, turned and waved, stopping the lift. "What's up, bud?" he asked, smiling.

"Oh, you know," I said mock-seriously. "Just cleaning up after everyone. How about you?"

"Haha, just great man! I'm almost done for the day," Mike replied.

"Me too," I smiled. "Hey, I got a question."

"Shoot," Mike invited.

"How would you like to live on Atlantis, and have your own business?"

"That would be interesting," he said. "What are taxes and government like on Atlantis?"

"No taxes, mild government. Certainly less than here, anyway," I replied. "I'm the top dog there."

Mike smiled broadly. "Nice!" he said.

"The only thing is…you have to be working eight hours a day for five days a week, unless there are extenuating circumstances," I explained.

"What kind of circumstances?" Mike asked, driving the forklift out of the cooler.

"Oh, you know, the typical stuff. Get sick, someone died, that sort of thing," I answered.

"I see. You know, that doesn't sound too bad. Where do I sign up?" Mike asked.

"You tell me you want to go. That's the sign up," I answered carelessly. "I'll even help you move, once Atlantis is ready," I offered.

"That sounds great! Hey, what about transportation?"

"Due to the way Atlantis was built, roads, and cars, aren't needed. You'll be walking to whatever location. Don't worry though, there are teleporter booths almost everywhere. You won't have to walk far, unless the city goes into lockdown, or loses power."

"Lockdown? That sounds pretty serious," Mike said.

"Yeah, the city was built with an average of three failsafes built into any piece of technology, so as to prevent loss of life or serious damage. Everything is localized, and triple redundant. It's probably the safest setup in existence," I explained.

"Sounds great! Count me in," Mike said. "I've got to get back to work now, or they might fire me. I'll see you around, bud."

"Yeah, have a good one, Mike," I said, waving as I left.

It was time to punch out, so as soon as I had my vest put away, I logged off via terminal computer, and walked out. Gibb's Rule #11. When the job is done, walk away.

Then, I saw all the news crews standing outside. _"Bugger,"_ I thought. _"Well, let's give 'em a show,"_

I had my wings out slightly, and I walked down the sidewalk while cameras flashed, and reporters started barking questions at me.

"Mr. Brooks, how did you get your wings?"

"Mr. Brooks, what do you plan to do now?"

"Mr. Brooks, are you an alien?"

"Mr. Brooks, do you know anything about the city that mysteriously appeared in the Atlantic Ocean?"

I ignored them all, and spread my wings out a little more, lights dancing in my palms. "I'd move back a bit if I were you, I'm about to take-off," I warned. Having cleared the building by fifteen feet, my palms were emitting more light, flickering along with the cameras.

Ignoring my warning, the crowd surged closer. In spite of my desire to leave, I refrained from jumping up, and instead went to the bridge that connected the strip malls on either side of Wards Road. Once there, I swung over the railing, and let go, falling ten feet before going to full power, and leaving. I pulled up to avoid the 460 overpass, and settled in to cruise back home.

Upon arriving home, I began taking the scrap and trash that Dad had marked, and fashioned the pile into an Ancient Jumper. It took my cleanout of the right-of-way that the powerlines ran through to gather enough material to finish, but when I was finished, I had a fully operational Jumper, with a full storage bay of mini drones.

A quick half-hour cruise had me within visual range, and I had deliberately been running without the cloak engaged, so as not to startle anyone. Shortly after Atlantis had become visible, I was boxed in by five F-22 Raptors.

"**This is restricted airspace. You are instructed to depart the area at once,"** came the voice over the radio.

"I don't think so," I answered sternly. "I am on course for Atlantis, which is my territory. Anything you do to try and stop me will be regarded as hostile intent, and responded to accordingly."

"**Atlantis has been claimed as territory of the United States of America, for use as a military base. Reverse your course now,"** the pilot replied.

"No," I answered. "I will not reverse course. Atlantis is mine, and the United States has no more claim upon it than any other nation. Atlantis is a sovereign nation. Its territory includes fifty miles in every direction away from the city. Authorized air traffic to Atlantis is not to be blocked in any way,"

"**LuckyGoldstar, get target lock on the enemy aircraft and fire,"** the pilot said.

"Good luck with that," I snarled. "Atlantis One, out!" With that, I severed the connection, and engaged the cloak, then launched three drones, which immediately began to seek targets. At the same time, I increased my own speed, and dropped down to an altitude slightly higher than the center spire.

A mental command returned the drones to their launch bay, and I uncloaked as I slowed drastically on my approach to the shield perimeter. The heads-up display tossed up a warning about an incoming missile, but I ignored it as the Jumper passed through the shield as if it weren't there. As I approached the center spire, and the Jumper bay, the missile impacted on the shield, and detonated in a flash of fire and smoke. The shield flared white in the area for several seconds before fading away to a near-crystal clarity once more.

In the hangar, there was an empty Jumper pad that was illuminated, and I carefully parked the shuttlecraft, following its mental prompts the moment they registered. The hatch opened of its own accord, while flight control shut down. I breathed a sigh of contentment. I was finally home.


End file.
